AU2: Through the Looking Glass
by Lilac Reverie
Summary: Alternating Universes Series, Part Two: Rose and the Doctor's human twin have struggled to build their new lives together, move on and forget the past. What will they do when spectres from that past start showing up again? Ten/TenB/Rose AU
1. Reflections

_**Author's Note: **OK, I confess: some days I believe that Rose could forget the Doctor and move on, to a happy, full, wonderful life in the alternate universe with his part-human twin. Other days: not so much._

_This story is from the Not So Much file._

_It's still a sequel to my first story, Sea Change, which I strongly recommend be read first. _

_Obligatory Disclaimer: I do not own Dr Who nor any of the main characters herein; no, I am borrowing them quite without permission and will gladly suffer the fires of hell if caught._

* * *

**Alternating Universes Series, Part One**

Rose and the Doctor's human twin have struggled to build  
their new lives together, move on and forget the past.  
What will they do when spectres from that past start showing up again?

**Reflections**

_London, Pete's World_

It had been a long, hard, wonderful, painful five years. Years of love and regret, of laughter and tears, of joining and parting, of discovery and forgetting – or at least, trying to forget. Five years since the Doctor had left Rose and Corin on the beach at Bad Wolf Bay in the alternate universe they still called Pete's World, to try to build new lives together from scratch.

Some days went better than others.

Jackie and Pete had invited the new couple to move into the mansion with them after their son Tyler was born, just nine and a half months after they arrived. There was plenty of room, after all. Corin had surprised Rose with how receptive he had been to the invitation, but then he reminded her of the part of the story in the rocks she had forgotten – that Gallifreyan first-borns brought their spouses into their family's House; large, multi-generational families under one roof were the rule. Besides, he said, he had an idea. And soon after they moved in, he began (with Pete's laughing permission) to build that idea, by hand: a small one-room summer cottage out under the huge old weeping willow by the pond, that reminded Corin so strongly of the trees on Gallifrey that he had been named for. Over the succeeding years, the cottage had slowly grown like a honeysuckle vine, first sprouting a porch, then a deck on top, then, with ladders and ropes and platforms and small rooms, it was creeping up into the willow itself. Rose suspected that before too many more years went by, it would resemble nothing so much as the Swiss Family Robinson Treehouse.

But it kept him happy. And he'd had enough disappointments elsewhere in his life. He'd had trouble adjusting to life on the slow path, after nine hundred years of constant travel. Just waking up in the same room in the same house that you had woken up in the previous one thousand days, and would continue to wake up in for the next several tens of thousands, took some getting used to. So did starting long-term projects and continuing to work on them, bit by bit, for the weeks or months or years that it would take to get them to completion.

His biggest disappointment had been the TARDIS coral. The combination of lack of suitable materials, some missing spots in his own knowledge, and – possibly – simply the change in universe and its frequencies, had resulted in a coral that stubbornly refused to grow at any rate, let alone Donna's promised 59x. It wasn't dead, but it wasn't growing. After several fruitless, supremely frustrating years, Corin had given up, and buried it within its protective shell underneath the floor in the summer house. He'd dig it up again if he ever managed to come up with some of the answers – if they ever fell to Earth in some visiting alien starship wreckage.

His biggest joy, of course, was Rose herself, followed closely by Tyler and, after a four-year gap, baby Donna. The gap had been long enough that they had begun to worry, but then, a long second honeymoon in Bora Bora had seemed to solve a number of problems, bringing them closer together than they had been since the wedding, and within a few months Rose was pregnant again.

Of course, Corin wasn't the only one who had struggled. Rose had been engaged in a long war with herself, as well. For those first nine months, she'd run on pure willpower, forcing herself to move on, forget the Doctor, concentrate on Corin, build their new life, run Torchwood, make a baby, make a home, move on, forget. To live fully the words she'd told her mother on her wedding day:

"Mum, Corin _is_ the Doctor – all the best parts of him. And more. His new human side made him... accessible. And mine. The alien part, the part I could never reach, never hold, never understand – that's the part that left. The best parts stayed. The best _man_ stayed, like I said on the plane. Yes, Mum, I'm sure. I'm more sure of Corin – of me and Corin – than I have ever been of anything."

Easier said than done.

It had all come crashing down around her when Tyler was born; she'd plummeted into several months of severe post-partum depression, when the world that had seemed so bright and shiny and full of possibility just nine months before turned bleak and black. That was when Jackie had prevailed upon the couple to come "home" to the mansion, so she could help take care of both Rose and Tyler. Corin had gained a whole new appreciation for his mother-in-law during those difficult months. (Donna's birth, four years later, had been better in some respects: shorter, anyway. The shadow of depression hung heavy over their shoulders, but they were forewarned that time, and it did not return.)

Slowly, slowly, with the help of an excellent therapist and some well-chosen medications, and the enduring love of her husband and parents, Rose came back to life, and was even able to resume working at Torchwood before Tyler turned a year old. Capable Brennan had filled in ably for her, but he didn't quite have her spark, her imagination – or her talent for management. Torchwood was Rose's creation in this world, and after her return began to blossom again, sparking off ideas and products from the detritus of alien visits enough to warrant the creation of a commercial enterprise to produce and market them. Torchwood was now self-supporting, if still very secretive, and all were glad to be free of the yoke of government oversight.

Rose herself, though, was changed. Though she and Corin had never lost their telepathic life bond, and after she crawled back up out of the depression they were able to resurrect the closeness and love they'd known during their first heady honeymoon period, there was a part of her he was never able to touch. Doors within her memory remained closed and locked to him. Not that he ever tried – he was absolutely faithful to the promise he'd made to never force open a mental door she'd closed. Besides, he didn't want or need to see beyond them – he knew whose face would be there. His, but not his.

He'd changed, as well, he knew. He wasn't the same man he'd been in the TARDIS. Not only had the previous five years done their work on him, but Donna's influence also showed at times. But wasn't that the point of a marriage? To accept changes and make the constant adjustments needed, to love and honor your partner always? Despite everything, they both felt deep inside that they had a strong marriage, stronger than most – the Time Lord life bond only served to enhance and strengthen what was already there. There was never any question – never had been – that they loved each other deeply. There was just that hint of shadow at times.

Nonetheless, they'd made it five years. And for some reason, that number seemed significant, a milestone, and they'd made some plans to celebrate it appropriately. Reversing the usual arrangement, they were staying home in the mansion, and Pete and Jackie were taking a long-scheduled month-long trip to America in their zeppelin, taking Tony and Tyler – best friends since the latter had been born – along. Baby Donna, only six months old, was both too young to be parted from her mother, and too small and precious to be too intrusive on their desired solitude.

The larger family had celebrated the anniversary three days in advance (the day before the foursome's departure), with a huge, rollicking party in the new exclusive restaurant atop the PTI Building, and Corin was able to spring his surprise on Rose, making quite a production of unveiling his gift: a life-size, full-length portrait of the two of them, painted by the current reigning portrait master, René Douchant, from one of the formal photographs they'd had taken the previous anniversary, before their Bora Bora tans had faded. Corin, wearing his trademark grey pinstripe suit, had been seated in a wing-back rattan chair, with Rose standing to one side, one hand on his shoulder, the other holding a single rose. He'd talked her into wearing her wedding dress for the shots, and the rose-and-lace confection gave the portrait a timeless air. M. Douchant had even managed to paint the lace so vividly that the viewer could almost see the knots.

Now, on the day itself, the portrait had been hung in the hall downstairs, opposite a large gilded mirror, while another portrait done several years before of Pete and Jackie had been moved to the dining room. Corin and Rose, with Donna, had spent the day quietly, simply enjoying each other's company. They'd had a long, elaborate picnic lunch out in the summer house, making love in the afternoon while Donna napped and playing with her while she wasn't, and then had a romantic candlelit dinner in (shooing the remaining staff out the door first) before retiring upstairs.

A shared bubblebath later, Corin watched Rose slip into something silky and sexy as he drew on his robe (why put pajamas on just to take them off again in a few minutes?). She sat down at her dressing table, sideways, laughing at some silly thing he'd said, and picked up her brush to offer him – she loved having him brush out her hair. As he crossed to take it, she turned in her seat towards the mirror to watch him.

And froze. Her face blanched dead white, and she dropped the brush to the floor and _screamed._


	2. Shards

**Shards**

Rose's terrified scream as she looked into her dressing table mirror shocked Corin into immobility, two steps away, hand outstretched for the hairbrush she had dropped. She whirled around, looking wildly behind her towards the hallway door, then back to Corin, then back to the mirror – and screamed again, her hands flying to her mouth, utterly unlike any reaction he had _ever_ seen her give.

The second scream seemed to jar him loose again, and he lunged forwards, dropping to his knees beside her, searching the mirror for the source of her terror. And damn near screamed himself, glancing involuntarily at the door. There was nothing there. But in the mirror...

… stood himself. Dressed in a ragged brown pinstripe suit, the kind he hadn't worn in years. Skinny – far skinnier than he'd ever been – and disheveled, with a long scar visible running from under his left ear down to his collar and underneath. "He" stared at the couple for a long moment, tortured despair burning through his eyes, then... he seemed to melt silently through the door into the hallway.

Corin fought the urge to run to the door, knowing there wouldn't be anyone there. Rose turned wildly to him, clutching at him, running her hands over his chest and neck to make sure he was really there, unscarred. "Corin... what... how..." came her terrified whimper.

He shook his head, and kept shaking it, completely confused, and more than a little frightened himself. "I don't know... I don't know..."

She moaned, and threw her arms around his neck, hanging on to shreds of sanity. He stood, drawing her up and away from the hellish reflection, now maddeningly blank, and simply held her for several long moments, trying frantically to think. _How in the name of the seven systems did I get put into the mirrors? No, wait, that couldn't be right. I'm _here._ I can't time travel any more. That's not me..._ Without knowing it, he repeated himself aloud. "That's not me." And as he did, it hit him. "It's _him..._"

Rose drew her head back and stared at her husband in doubled horror as his words penetrated her fogged brain. He continued, "He's been put into the mirrors. He's in all mirrors, everywhere. But how did he get into this universe?"

She'd begun shaking her head, and continued, wildly, as if she could somehow send the nightmare away. "No... no... I can't do this. I can't go through this again. I can't... I _can't_..." She broke away from him, stumbling back, head still shaking. She caught a glimpse of the dressing table mirror again, and flinched away, though it was still empty of anything that shouldn't be there. Turning away to see the large mirror on the wall, and then further, the mirror in the bathroom through the door, and all of them were empty, threateningly so, because _he_ could sidle around the frame at any second. Still shaking her head, she stumbled into the hall, then began running, down the stairs, past other mirrors. _Oh, God, why do we have so many fucking mirrors?_ And finally out the door onto the back terrace, scooting to the concrete wall to fold over it and lose her dinner on the other side.

She hung over the wall for several long moments, retching. Corin came up behind her and slid one arm around her middle, placing his other hand on her forehead to support it. When her stomach was empty, she limply collapsed, and he gathered her up again, turning her into his chest. Gasping and shaking uncontrollably, she snaked her arms around his waist and held on.

They stood together for several minutes, till she gained some control, then she pulled back slightly to ask, "What the hell is going on? What do you mean, 'he's been put into the mirrors'?"

"It was a punishment I used once, though I'd heard of it being used before. I put someone into the mirrors – she's just a reflection, one you might catch out of the corner of your eye, but when you look, there's nothing there."

"Are you sure it's _him_, and not..." She couldn't finish the question.

"I don't look like that anymore, and I won't ever again. I've already aged some; there's no going back. And I'm quite sure I've never been in the mirrors before. No, it's him."

She closed her eyes, and started to shake her head again. "I can't do this... Why can't he leave us the fuck _alone?_" _I've tried so hard to move on. I can't go back. I can't rip off the scabs like this. Go __away__, damn you!_

He cradled her close again, wordlessly. There was nothing he could say.

And then they heard it: the unmistakable _whoosh_ of the TARDIS, coming from the copse of beech trees off to one side of the house. Rose began to cry, softly. Corin simply stood, waiting, excitement and dread warring in his single heart.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shadowy figure walk slowly out of the copse and pause at the edge of the terrace, with another, slightly larger, lurking behind. "Well, come on out; we know you're there," he said wearily. He turned towards the figure as it came along the path below the wall, and froze, shocked for the second time that night into unthinking immobility.

"Hello, Dad," said Jenny.


	3. Slivers - Looking

**Slivers - Looking**

_flick_ young boy brushing his teeth _flick_ old woman softly crying _flick_ businessman adjusting his tie _flick_ young woman smiling _flick_ two girls giggling _flick_ someone rushing by the door _flick_ old man gazing thoughtfully _flick_ young man slicking back his hair _flick_ teenage girl doing her makeup _flick_ bleached blonde woman laughing _flick_ large crowd in some public room _flick_ young mother yelling at her kids _flick_ middle-aged woman sighing dreamily _flick_ young man putting on his jacket _flick_ bald man combing his six hairs over _flick_ teenage girl doing her nails _flick_ man on toilet reading the newspaper _flick_ empty hallway _flick_

He was a zillion tiny, atomic slivers of consciousness, without thought, without volition, flicking endlessly, instantly, from window to window, looking _flick_ look _flick_ look _flick_ _flick _a zillion windows all at once _flick_ _flick_ _flick_

_flick_ young black man walking out the door _flick_ young woman smiling dreamily _flick_ old man glaring angrily _flick_ redhead twins giggling _flick_ teenager morosely picking at his face _flick_ businesswoman adjusting her suit jacket _flick_ mother scolding her teenage daughter _flick_ elderly couple smiling at each other _flick_ towhead toddler brushing his teeth _flick_ young couple making out on the couch _flick_ busy restaurant at lunchtime _flick_ tall fifty-ish man adjusting his tie in front of a large portrait …. …. ….

The sliver paused for just a moment – a single tiny instant that stretched to the mental horizon, staring at the portrait. A man, seated, a woman, standing... the woman... her eyes... faintly, so faintly, an echo of a ghost of a memory of a name floated on the air... _Rose..._ and then it was ripped away again –_ flick_ _flick_ _flick_

_flick_ boy playing with a dog _flick_ woman fixing her lipstick _flick_ teenage girl yelling at her mum _flick_ Shakespearean actor practicing his lines _flick_ bank lobby, mostly empty _flick_ cleaning lady wiping the sink _flick_ shabby businessman fiddling with his hair _flick_ nervous teenager fiddling with his hair _flick_ tabby cat staring fixedly _flick_ _flick_ _flick_

The sliver paused as the echo came again... _Rose... flick_ _flick_ a hundred flicks later, it stopped again, remembering the portrait. _Rose..._ The sliver *turned* and began to search for the portrait again, somehow learning a hair's breadth of control as it went, flicking even faster through the windows _flick_ _flick_ _flick_

A thousand windows away, another sliver heard the echo. _Rose..._ It paused, and then *turned*, searching for the source of the echo.

And another sliver did the same. And another, and another, and another...


	4. A Cuppa Glass

**A Cuppa Glass**

Corin stared, unbelieving, at the young woman beyond the terrace wall. _"Jenny?"_ Feeling his reaction as well as hearing it, Rose stifled her quiet sobs and turned to look, stunned. She knew who Jenny was; he'd relived her brief life during their LifeDreaming. He went on, "But... you _died..._"

Jenny smiled and gave an apologetic shrug. "I'm a Time Lord. You left too soon. Just after that, I …. woke up. Decided I didn't want to spend the rest of eternity on that rock, so I stole the captain's shuttle and took off. Ran into the Doctor again a few years later, and we've been traveling together since."

At the mention of the Doctor, both Corin and Rose glanced at the man walking up behind Jenny; a handsome fifty-ish gentleman dressed in a well-made black suit, carrying a small, flat wooden box, a delighted smile threatening to break out on his open face. Jenny, though, shook her head: "No, that's not him. This is... a temporary companion."

Corin turned back to Jenny, getting to the point. "All right, then. How did you get into this universe... and what is the Doctor doing in our mirrors?"

Curiously, at his second question, Jenny seemed to relax a bit, and gave a small, relieved smile. "I was right." She took a deep breath, and looked up at them again. "It's... a long story. May we come in?"

"I've a feeling you'd better." He turned slightly and waved them up the steps and towards the door.

Rose had been struggling to regain her mental balance and get her brain moving. "Let's go into the kitchen, I'll make us some tea. I've a feeling it's going to be a long night." Then, suddenly feeling the chilly night air on her bare legs, she looked down to remember that she only had a skimpy nightgown on. "On second thought, I think I'm going to put some clothes on. Corin...?"

But he was shaking his head, too – he'd only the robe on himself. "Me, too. Jenny, would you mind... ?"

Jenny smiled. "Sure, I'll make the tea. Just point us towards the kitchen?"

When they returned downstairs a few minutes later, Jenny was just pouring out the tea into four cups. They sat down around the high side table, and then Corin turned to the gentleman with a questioning look.

He smiled, broadly. "I'm... your descendent, sir. Ma'am. John Gallifrey – the eleventh Lord Gallifrey." At Corin's and Rose's immediate looks of astonishment, he turned to Jenny. "Oops. I shouldn't have said that, should I?"

She gave a small laugh. "Too late now!"

Corin just shook his head. "I'm just going to forget you said that. There's too much going on." He turned to Jenny and spread his hands, giving her the floor.

"We – Dad and I – broke through into this universe in John's time period – not quite three hundred years from now. Landed just out back there, in the garden. We were chasing a pair of Sontaran warriors – dumb kids, actually – playing around with some ancient wreckage they'd found. Part of it was some kind of transmat device – they'd made several jumps around, wreaking a bit of havoc with the timeline, then suddenly... they broke through to here."

Corin was shaking his head again. "That's... not possible. And it's entirely too much coincidence that they.. and you.. landed here, in our own backyard. I'm not buying it."

"Well, apparently, the wreckage they'd found must have been of Time Lord origin. And when it made that jump, it locked onto something here – something out in the back yard? Something you have – or had?"

Suddenly, it clicked. "The TARDIS coral!" He explained how the Doctor had tossed him the bit of coral on the beach, to grow their own TARDIS. "It's buried out there under the summer house." He looked at Rose, astonished. "Something must have happened up ahead that... turned it on.. and it sent out a signal back to the other universe."

Jenny took it up again. "And our own TARDIS locked onto it, as well as the Sontaran's wreck. We'd no idea, though, where we were – didn't even realize we'd hopped universes. So... When we landed, we heard them crashing about inside the house, and went inside to catch them. And then... he ran right into your portrait."

John put in, "It's still hanging in the hallway in my time. Well, you are the family founders, after all!"

Jenny, again: "He just stopped cold, staring at it. Just frozen. I'm not sure he was even aware when the Sontarans grabbed him and dragged him upstairs. He was still in shock when they put him into the mirror. I was out in the hallway, frantically trying to break through the barrier they'd thrown up, but I was too late. They put him in, and then left for town, cackling to each other."

Rose had been following the conversation silently, still only half-believing it was happening. "So why is he here, now? Why back here?"

Jenny looked at her for a long moment, and finally said, quietly, "He's trying to find you."

Rose shook her head. "Why?" Afraid to know the answer, but it had to be asked. After another moment of silence, she asked, "What aren't you telling us?"

Jenny took a deep breath. "That he's never gotten over you."

She took another breath, and leaned forward, talking now to both Corin and Rose. "Look, I don't know everything that happened before I joined him again. All I have is hints he's dropped, and the TARDIS records – and she can only tell me what happened inside her. I do know that something terrible happened after he left you two here. Something... devastating. And after that... " She stopped for a moment, then went on. "I know he tried to commit suicide, at least twice."

They both stared, too shocked to say anything. She took another breath. "The first time, he tried to fly the TARDIS into the heart of the sun. Her automatic defenses kicked in, and knocked him unconscious. When he came to, he took her to an uninhabited planet and set her down, and just... walked away. I don't know how long he was there, but it was measured in years.

"Some time later, I was flying nearby in my little ship, and started following a strange – but strangely familiar – signal. I landed, and found the TARDIS – it took me a while to recognize her, though, she was completely overgrown by the jungle. And since he'd left the door open, it had grown up inside her, too. It took me – no joke – ten solid days with a hatchet and a saw to clear it all out. And the whole time, I could feel her... watching me. Judging me. Waiting to see if I'd finish. When I did, she let me bring her up enough to use her sensors to find him – huddled in a cave several miles away. It took me a while to convince him to come back with me, and teach me how to fly the TARDIS, but eventually I managed."

Corin broke in, "I'm surprised he lets you fly it." He'd noticed, in the back of his mind, how Jenny kept referring to the TARDIS as "she".

Jenny grimaced. "He doesn't have any choice. Ever since he tried to kill her, she won't respond to him at all. Just me."

He replied, thoughtfully, "Again, that's too much coincidence. You just _happened_ to be flying by, out of all of space and time? He just _happened_ to pick that planet, that decade?"

"I think that was somehow arranged by the TARDIS, actually. I think she remembered me from when I was born, and... he picked the planet to maroon himself on, but I think she picked the time, and chose a time when I might be near. And I was. She chose me, and she called me with that signal."

Considering, he nodded. "Well, I'd heard of that happening before, a TARDIS choosing its own master. Or mistress. They are alive, after all – as you've found out. Anyway – go on."

"Well, he's slowly gotten better in the years since then. We've been traveling together for about twelve years now. And he's gotten more like his old self – how I remember him - you, anyway. But he does still have his moments. He'll lock himself in his room in the TARDIS for days at a time, playing this... really eerie music. Or he'll wander off on some planet and I'll find him a few weeks later doing some kind of manual labor – construction or farming or something." She grimaced. "I learned after the first time not to go looking for him too soon – better to let him work it out of his system for a while, first."

Rose had a question, though. "Are you sure it's _me_?"

Jenny nodded. "Yes. You're... _there_. Everywhere. A ghost that no one can see but him. And he's got... " She stopped, aware she was spilling secrets that weren't hers to spill, but then went on. "He's got a locket around his neck, that he _never_ takes off, with your picture and a lock of your hair in it. And yes, it's also whatever it was that happened after. I wish I knew more about that, but..."

Rose sat utterly still, shocked at what she was hearing. In the back of her mind, she remembered a locket like that – she'd gotten it to give to Mickey, but lost it somehow on New Year's Eve, the one just before she'd met the Doctor the first time. She always thought it had fallen out of her pocket that night somewhere.

Corin put in, "I'm surprised he hasn't regenerated in all this time."

Jenny looked at him. "He can't. He's gone through it – twice that I know of. And it won't complete. Something about what happened when you were created put a permanent... kink into the works. Now, his body gets repaired, but he doesn't change. It stops short. He's stuck."

They all fell silent for a time, absorbing it all. Then, Corin said softly, almost to himself, "I'm not sure it wouldn't be kinder just to leave him in the mirrors."

John spoke up for the first time. "I don't believe that." They turned to him, and he went on, to Corin, "You haven't asked why I'm here."

"OK, why?

"Are you writing a journal, sir?"

Surprised at the question out of nowhere, Corin nodded. "And you have it?" he asked, drily.

John nodded. "Passed down – in secret – from father to son."

"And I'm going to write about tonight, I take it?"

Another nod. "It's a short little entry, very enigmatic. A mystery left for future generations to solve. And I must say, I'm quite cranked to be the one to get to solve it." He grinned, then quickly returned to the subject. "You write: 'September eighteenth, 10 pm.'"

Almost involuntarily, they all turned to look at the clock on the wall. 10:23. Corin said to Jenny, approvingly, "You're good!", then motioned John to continue.

He spoke slowly, with quiet emphasis, his voice capitalizing the words. "'The Night of the Miracle. The Doctor was in the mirror, and the travelers from the future returned to set him free. The circles were closed, the wounds were healed, and all who came returned to their lives with full and joyous hearts.'"

They sat in silence again, each wondering how in the world that outcome could come from the current situation. Rose asked John, "Are you sure it's his handwriting?"

"Yes." He paused, looking at Jenny for permission, and she nodded. He'd brought it, after all. He picked up the flat polished wooden box he'd been holding on his lap, thumbed the latch and opened it, revealing a very old, very thick leather-bound book. He grinned at Corin. "Your grandson, I believe, is the one who rebound the several volumes into one, and had the box made, as well." He opened the book carefully at the faded blue ribbon, and turned it so Corin and Rose could read the writing there.

"Yes," said Corin after a moment's consideration. "That's my writing." His finger hovered above the page, not touching it, pointing to the entry before. "And I just wrote that last night." He looked at John again. "Is anything ever mentioned about tonight again?"

"No," came the reply. "The only odd thing is how you left the rest of this page blank afterwards. This is the only time you do that, ever, except for the end of each year."

Another silence, then Rose broke it again, saying softly, "I don't see how you can heal wounds by ripping off the scars."

John looked at her, sympathy etched on his face, and answered as softly. "If I may, my lady, sometimes when the wound fails to heal properly the first time, the only thing one can do is to reopen it, clean it out, and start the healing again."

He'd spoken so kindly that the tears that had been threatening all evening pricked her eyes again, and she closed them tightly, then reached for Corin's hand, needing his comfort. She'd kept a barrier up in her mind ever since the Doctor had appeared in the mirror, not wanting Corin to see her reactions. Now she dropped it, and tentatively, apologetically reached for his mind, finding he mirrored the same shock, pain, and fearful wariness at the course the night seemed to be taking.

He looked at her when he felt her hand and mind, and squeezed her hand back, trying to find some reassurance to send her. They gave each other a small, sad smile for the effort, and then asked and answered the question before them.

"Well," she finally said, "I certainly don't want to spend the rest of my life with _him_ in my mirrors, watching me."

"Nope," he answered, simply. He turned to Jenny. "I sure hope you have a plan for getting him out, though, because to be honest, I have absolutely no idea how to do it."


	5. Slivers - Listening

**Slivers - Listening**

_flick_ young woman brushing her hair _flick_ two dogs playing _flick_ old woman petting a cat _flick_ gilded hallway of a museum _flick_ _Rose..._ _flick_ young man peering into a small car window _flick_ ragged bum glancing at his face, glancing away _flick_ firefighter shaving _flick_ empty bathroom stalls, heels clicking out the door _flick_ _Rose... flick_ _flick_ _flick_

_flick_ older man and young woman walking in front of a painting... Another sliver had found the portrait. It paused, listening. Then it *turned* and began following the portrait back in time, searching for it knew not what. A hundred thousand flicks later, another sliver did the same. And another, and another, and another...

_flick_ empty hallway _flick_ boy kicking a football _flick_ woman fixing her hair _flick_ tile falling off the wall in a public restroom _flick_ businessman glancing at himself racing past _flick_ girl brushing her teeth _flick_ _flick_ _flick_

A sliver paused, listening for the echo, and heard something else. A voice... _her _voice... calling to him, so faint, so far... across a million years, across a billion stars, through the empty voids between atoms, across the whole of existence, she called to him... _Find me, Doctor... Find me..._

The sliver *turned*, and began to follow the call.

And another sliver heard the call, and did the same. And another, and another, and another...


	6. Hairline Fractures

**Hairline Fractures**

Sitting around the high kitchen table, passing around the teapot to refresh their cups, Corin asked Jenny. "_Do_ you have any ideas for getting the Doctor out?"

She nodded. "A few. I need to run them by you, though. But first, please tell me: is there one particular mirror that you've seen him in most clearly, or most often?"

Rose answered. "Only one. My dressing table." A beat. "And you're not surprised."

Jenny shook her head. "No, but not for the reason you think. I'll come back to that in a bit." She turned to Corin. "OK. First of all, I'm under the impression that he's not... in one piece. That when they put him in the mirrors, he was shattered into lord only knows how many bits, and those bits were scattered everywhere. Is that right?"

Corin considered that for a while, then slowly began to nod. "I'm not at all certain, but I think you're right." He sighed. "Shit. That means we have to get all – or at least most – of him _here_ before we can even think of getting him out. I suppose you have an idea for that?"

Jenny smiled. "He's searching for Rose. All of him is. So we give him a hand, and show him the way. We light up a beacon."

^..^

After inspecting the front hall, where the portrait was hung, Jenny declared it to be the perfect spot for the beacon. She asked Corin and John to bring the dressing table down to the foot of the stairs, and then placed a small coin made from gallinium on the floor opposite the portrait for the TARDIS to home in on. A few minutes later, the TARDIS _whooshed_ into place in the hall, and Jenny opened both doors, turning the ambient light inside down as far as it would go. "Can we turn these lights down, too?" So Corin flicked them off, and opened the drapes to let in the moonlight – the full moon provided ample illumination as it bounced off the shining tile.

("Why can't we do it _in_ the TARDIS?" Corin had asked her earlier. "Because he can't seem to see it – it's like a blind spot. Take a mirror outside, he's in it. Back inside, nope. So the TARDIS has to be _part_ of the beacon, but it can't contain it.")

Jenny nodded approvingly at the shawl Corin had draped over the mirror, and asked that the one on the wall (which everyone had been studiously avoiding) be covered, as well. Then, asking the two men to sit on the steps or stand back out of the way, she went back into the TARDIS and picked up something she'd left inside – a coil of what appeared to be extremely fine, braided wire. She attached one end to the coral pillar inside the left-hand door, and then slowly walked backwards around the room, playing out the wire, looping it around behind the dressing table, then the portrait, and then, leaving a wide space opposite the table, walked back to the TARDIS and attached the other end to the pillar behind the other door.

Corin peered at the "wire" on the floor near his foot. "That looks like human hair!"

Jenny shrugged. "Yeah, well, it'll grow back." He looked at her, curious, then mentally homed in on her _very_ short and choppy hairstyle. He glanced at John, who nodded, and then made braiding motions with his hands. Jenny added, "That's most of why it took us so long to get here."

Corin had been thinking hard. "The only reason you'd need your hair is to use the keratin in it for the perimeter of a paradox field. And I don't see any paradoxes yet."

"Yet." smiled Jenny, and she motioned John to help her. They walked into the TARDIS, and came back out carrying – another dressing table. Which looked suspiciously familiar, even with the blanket over the mirror. They carried it over to the open spot, and set it down facing Rose's table.

"Yes," she went on, to his questioning eyes. "It's the exact same table. Most importantly, it's the mirror that he was put into up ahead. The _exact same_ one. So it now contains the tiniest memory of his reflection from that transference, a bit of himself left behind in that specific sheet of glass._ That's_ why he appeared in yours now – he was drawn to it especially."

Corin whistled appreciatively, but then said, "But objects don't make paradoxes."

Another smile. "But their reflections do. We've lined them up so they'll reflect each other, and whatever is between them. _That's_ the paradox."

Corin grinned. "Bloody brilliant!" And while Jenny pulled a chair out of the dining room to put in the middle of the beacon, he went to get Rose.

^..^

Rose had gone up to check that Donna was still sound asleep in her crib, and now was huddled in the overstuffed chair in the darkened nursery, a tight little ball of misery and anxiety. _I don't want to do this. I don't want to see him again. I've been beating my brains out for five bloody years trying to forget him and move on, and now this happens. And I can't just sit back and let things happen, noooooo, I've got to actively DO something. I have to call him, get him here. Right here, in my home, in OUR home, the LAST place I want him to be. How can I call him here if I don't want to?_

Around and around her thoughts whirled, trying to ignore the second, softer voice inside, the one telling her how much she DID want to see the Doctor, hold him, be safe again in his arms, wipe the care from his eyes, feed some weight back on him, and love away the scars.

_But what about Corin? What about ME and Corin? And the kids? Tyler? Donna? And the life we've built here, piece by piece? How can I tear that apart? How could I even THINK about breaking his heart? And MY heart, too – I LOVE Corin, dammit! He's my bond mate, my other half – literally! _She wanted to scream, utterly shocked that the idea of leaving had even come from inside herself, snaking silently out from that part of her heart she thought she'd locked away forever.

Corin's hand softly touched her shoulder, and she jumped. She'd thrown the mental barrier back up when she'd come up here, and hadn't heard him walk in. Suddenly unable to hold it in any longer, she began to sob, and he slid down beside her and drew her into his lap. He didn't need to *hear* it to know what was going on inside her mind. He knew whose face was behind her locked mental doors, after all.

All he could do was hold her, and so he did, for several long minutes, while she quietly wept, unnoticed tears streaking his own face.

"Beautiful Rose," he whispered as her sobs began to ease. "My strong, wonderful, courageous, lovely Rose. Who saved her father, and tamed a Dalek. Who marched into the Cyberman stronghold, and fought off Satan himself. Who looked into the heart of the TARDIS and changed reality, and survived. Who shot herself from one universe to the next, a dozen times over, and corrected an entire timeline. And now you're afraid of a reflection in a mirror?"

She couldn't help it; she started to chuckle, then caught it before the chuckle made good its threat to change back into tears. "It's what the reflection is showing of ME that scares me," she whispered back. That was as close as she could get to the truth, here between them.

He considered for a bit. "As close as we've become – closer than any two people have ever been – he's always been there between us." She stiffened, and then, accepting the truth, relaxed and nodded against his neck. He went on, "Maybe this is the only way to get him out of there. To finish it, once and for all, no matter which way it ends up." He paused for a long moment. "We can't go on like this. We've got to see it through." He held her even closer. "Just remember one thing, always. I love you. And I always will, no matter what. _No matter what._"

She shifted sideways and slipped her arms around him at last. "I love you, too, Corin. I know you know that. You've seen it in my mind, felt it with my own heart. I'll always love you, too." She stopped again, pressing her face into his shoulder to squash the tears.

Finally, she sighed, and released him a little. "OK. This has to happen. Let's get it over with. I... " She took a deep breath, and pulled back to look into the face of her beloved. "I've done enough time travel, and reality hopping, as you just reminded me, to know that... that I've got to take this on faith, that those words in your journal really do tell what's going to happen here tonight. I don't see how, but... I've just got to take it on faith."

He kissed her, then, tenderly, trying to express everything he felt with that one embrace, knowing it could never be enough, but knowing that she knew, anyway, and knowing she was giving him the same.

They unwrapped themselves, and stood up, then he stopped her again. "One last thing. Names have power. Use his true name, Rose. That will reach him, if nothing else does."

But she shook her head. "I can barely even pronounce it in English, let alone give it the Gallifreyan meaning!"

He touched her temple with a caressing finger. "I'll give it to you. Just echo it on."

Finally, she nodded. "OK." They turned, and went slowly back down to the hall.

^..^

John was sitting on the stairs again, out of the way. Corin showed Rose the hair rope, helping her step carefully over it, then took up a station against the wall, beside the TARDIS, outside the paradox field. Suddenly, he shook his head, startled at a mental whisper that seemed to slip past his consciousness, to swiftly to grab before it was gone. He shifted to lean against the outside of the TARDIS itself, surprised at the wave of comfort it seemed to send him. *_So you haven't forgotten me, then?*_ he sent it, surprised again that he could still do so, and smiled at the returned pulse. Then he turned to put all his attention on the center of the room again.

Jenny had seated Rose on the chair in front of her version of the table, just slightly to one side of the center line between the mirrors. She stepped over to the TARDIS door and up to the console, flicking a switch. A soft, golden TARDIS glow began to trickle up from the hair rope, diffusing slowly through the circle. Jenny came back out and looked around, considering. "Something's still missing," she murmured. "Ah!" She softly called back inside the TARDIS. "The Ood Lament, please, very softly." And the eerie, haunting melody that had been sung by the captive Ood began to thread through the air.

Corin shivered, catching Jenny's eye. "That's...?" She nodded, catching his meaning. That's what the Doctor played when he locked himself in his room. Now it would help call him home.

Jenny went back to Rose and stood behind her, hands lightly on her shoulders. "I want you to close your eyes, now, and try to relax. Think back to when you were traveling with the Doctor, to a time when you were separated, and called to him. Hold onto that moment, that feeling." She took her hands away, and quietly went to stand by the mirror behind Rose, stepping carefully outside the circle. She nodded to John, and they both lifted off the mirror coverings at the same moment. There was a tiny flash from the paradox glow, then it deepened slightly, seeming to coagulate before the two mirrors.

"Ready?" Rose took a deep breath, and nodded. "Then open your eyes. Don't turn around, just keep looking in your own mirror."

Rose took another deep, steadying breath, and slowly opened her eyes – and gasped. She managed not to flinch, or look around. The Doctor's reflection was directly behind her, almost close enough to touch, clearer even than he had been earlier upstairs.

He was also that much more ragged. His suit hung in tatters from his elbows and chest. His shirt had been ripped open, the scars – there were three of them, parallel – clearly visible, running diagonally from left neck and shoulder down across his chest. She caught a glimpse of the gold chain and locket around his neck. His normally skinny frame was withered and gaunt, a pile of ill-assorted matchsticks. And his face... she could see tear tracks on his cheeks, his eyes burning a hole through her soul, his tortured expression a breath away from ripping her heart from her chest.

She found she was clutching the edge of the dressing table with both hands, the wood biting into her palms. Unable to tear her eyes from his, she forced herself to take several deep, steadying breaths, and then relax her hands a bit, while still holding on to the table for support.

_*Corin?*_ In response to her signal, he put the Doctor's true name into her mind, and she let it echo there for several breaths, experiencing again the sound of wind and wildfire and – very faintly now – the the Doctor's eight-year-old self giggling with delight. Then she did her best to send the sounds toward the Doctor's reflection with her mind, whispering the audible syllables of the name as best she could. She felt Corin help her, silently lending her his mindskills to fling the message out as far as they could, sending it into the mirror, into the void. As the echoes of the name faded within her mind, she turned to English, repeating over and over her old mantra, calling with her mind and whispering it aloud. *_Find me, Doctor. Find me!*_


	7. Slivers - Seeking

**Slivers - Seeking**

Most of the zillions of slivers were *moving* now, unthinkingly seeking the face, or the name. Following the portrait, or the call. _Find me, Doctor. Find me..._

They began bumping into each other as they sought the same channels through time and space, automatically coalescing as they did. Some ghost of consciousness began seeping into the largest resulting clumps of slivers, and they began to put the clues together, matching the call, the voice, the name. _Rose..._

Then, suddenly, every single sliver *stopped* at the same instant, as an impossibly distant clarion call swept through them. It latched onto each individual sliver, magnetizing them and placing an unbreakable compulsion over each tiny consciousness, whirling them around and drawing them inexorably towards a single point. A room. A moment. A figure, sitting in a chair. From a million miles away, a billion years, the beacon was lit, calling them, swiftly and surely, to that point.

The slivers *turned* as one, and flung themselves towards the beacon.


	8. The Mirror Crack'd

**The Mirror Crack'd**

Rose continued staring fixedly at the Doctor's reflection in her dressing table mirror, murmuring her mantra over and over. *_Find me, Doctor. Find me..*._ She whispered his true name again and again, trying with all her might to send her message into the glass, into the void, and bring him home again. All her internal walls were down, and the love she'd suppressed for so long for the ravaged Time Lord appearing behind her shoulder came pouring out of its hiding place deep within her heart, out through her eyes with her tears, as if love alone could shatter the glass that kept them apart, and the barriers of time, space, and reality itself with it.

The other three occupants of the hall were holding their breath, staring unbelievingly at the open space behind Rose, as Jenny's next prediction began to come true. "I think that as the bits of him gather and coalesce, he'll actually start to materialize physically _between_ the two mirrors. That's why we need the paradox field." The golden glow of the paradox field slowly swirled and concentrated in one spot, taking on the Doctor's outline, then beginning to fill in the space inside, seeming to pulse and flow in time with the eerie Ood Lament.

Slowly, slowly, he appeared, clearer and clearer, as finer details and colors seemed to come into focus like a camera lens. Oblivious to everything else, he stared into the mirror at Rose's face, as if it were truly the only thing in existence in the cosmos. The only thing that mattered.

And then the Doctor moved, bringing up one hand and stretching it out towards Rose, all his shattered longing and despair summed up in that one, hopeless gesture.

"Take his hand," whispered Jenny.

Rose turned in her chair, somehow unsurprised to see his shadowy form there, still half transparent, like he had appeared at first in his message on the beach at Bad Wolf Bay. She gripped the back of the chair with one hand and shakily rose to her feet, facing him. Staring directly into his eyes for the first time since he'd left her, she whispered brokenly, "Doctor..." Then she reached for his outstretched hand...

...but they passed through each other like mist. Rose sobbed, and shook her head. "Doctor..."

"Keep calling," came Jenny's soft prompt.

She continued sobbing softly, whispering, "Doctor. Find me. Come to me. I'm right here. I've always been here. Come find me, Doctor. Find me!"

The Doctor's form grew darker and more solid with each breath, his face losing the look of chiseled stone and becoming alive. Torment and despair rolled off him in waves. His lips parted at last, and formed a single, soundless word. "Rose..."

Time itself stood still, waiting. Rose gave a final, quiet sob, and whispered her soul into the night. "I love you."

Her hand met solid flesh.

And Jenny sprang the trap.


	9. Jagged Edges

**Jagged Edges**

The moment she saw their hands meet, Jenny stabbed the remote control button she'd put in her pocket, starting the chain reaction she'd so carefully set up after three long agonizing weeks of frantically searching through the TARDIS library for the means of getting the Doctor out of the mirrors.

First, the paradox field dropped. The coalescing cloud of glowing particles instantly contracted into the Doctor with a sucking hiss followed by a moment of complete silence, as though all the sound had been sucked in, too. Then the two dressing table mirrors shattered with twin sharp silver whines, sending a shock wave through the room and reverberating off the walls. The millions of tiny shards of glass streaked through the air towards the Doctor from both sides, turning to miniscule shafts of brilliant white as they burned from the air's friction, enveloping him in a sheet of blinding light.

Then, a heartbeat later, the second half of Jenny's one-two punch landed. Out through the TARDIS doors came a shaft of pure Vortex energy, striking the Doctor and turning the light enveloping him into the familiar sparkling gold. The white glass streaks instantly reversed, exploding back towards the mirror frames and knocking them backwards and out of line, ending the doubled reflection paradox, before swiftly settling in the frames themselves and reforming the glass mirrors therein.

The largest part of the energy briefly lay sparkling on the Doctor's skin, recreating every cell from the pure energy that had formed from the twin reflections, then sank deep inside, repairing him as it went, regenerating him back into the same familiar, skinny frame.

Corin watched from the side, eyes wide in wonder – which turned to horror as the Vortex energy flowed from the Doctor's arm onto Rose through their still-clasped hands, snaking around her waist and chest. "NOOOOOOO!" he screamed, and lunged towards her, flinging his arms around her and trying to wrench her away from the danger. There was a long moment of resistance, the Vortex energy seeming to clutch at her small frame, then it gave way, and both of them sprawled on the floor below their portrait.

Corin was vaguely aware of the Doctor collapsing in the other direction, but his attention was all on his beloved. He sat up and gathered her close again, touching her face, sobbing. "Rose! Rose – are you all right? Rose!"

Rose was breathing hard, trying to pull herself together. She clutched at Corin's shirt collar, then moved her hands up to his face, looking into his eyes. "I'm all right. I'm OK." A few more breaths, and she nodded, confirming it again. "I'm OK." She threw her arms around him and buried her face in his neck, unable to think clearly, aware only that Corin was there, holding her, and she was in the only place she wanted to be.

They sat huddled together for several long moments, eyes closed, holding each other tightly. Then Jenny's voice came from behind Corin, shaky but shockingly normal – if a bit dry. "Well, that was unexpected."

A sudden bolt of fury shot through Corin, and he turned to tell Jenny off for the danger she'd put his wife into. "What, that she'd be..." His voice trailed off and his jaw dropped, shocked into speechless immobility for the third time that night. _(This is starting to turn into a bad habit_ came the irrepressible tiny voice in his head.)

Rose felt him go rigid, and turned to look. Her jaw dropped, as well, as she gasped in shock. When she found her voice a long moment later, all it would give was a cracked whisper. "Oh my god... Corin...

There's TWO of me!"

^..^

The Doctor slowly came to, finding himself sprawled on a hard tile floor, moonlight streaming from one direction, and the familiar glow from inside the TARDIS from the other. He lay there, unable to clear his head – he had a splitting headache, and couldn't seem to string two thoughts together. Where the hell was he, and how had he gotten there? All his memory was giving him was vague, confusing images of windows – millions, billions of windows, and the sense of urgently, desperately searching for something. Nothing else. Nothing made any sense at all.

He tried to move his arms, thinking he might sit up, but those appendages refused to comply. _I know that feeling,_ he suddenly thought. _I've regenerated._ He looked closely at his hands and forearms. _Nope. Still the same. Still stuck in this body._ He felt the familiar wave of despair wash over him and groaned.

Suddenly, soft hands were touching him, pulling him, helping him sit up, and a soft voice exclaimed "Doctor! Are you all right?" A very soft, very familiar voice. He looked up and into _her_ face. The one face he most wanted, most dreamed of seeing. The one face he thought he'd never, ever see again.

Rose.

He gaped, staring unbelievingly at her face, so full of tenderness and concern – concern for _him_. How could that be, when he'd gone and left her, abandoned her and run away? He started to shake his head, then realized what a mistake that was when the headache stabbed at his eyes, so he closed them instead. _I must be dreaming. Again._

Then other voices began penetrating his fogged brain. Jenny: "Well, that was unexpected." Then a male voice, that sounded almost like.. himself. "What, that she'd be..." It stopped abruptly. Then Rose said softly, "Oh my god... Corin... There's TWO of me!"

Rose? She was right there in front of him, and she hadn't said anything. He turned his head, following the voice, and saw... himself. And Rose. Another Rose. Sitting huddled together on the floor a few feet away, gaping at him and the Rose beside him. He turned back to her, and saw her gaping at the other couple in return. _I think I need to lie down._

Jenny saw his utter confusion, and knelt beside him. "Dad. We're in the other universe. _Their_ universe. It's a long story, but the Vortex – it just duplicated Rose." _Now I __know_ _I need to lie down._ Then part of what she said penetrated, and he realized that the other man was his human twin. And this really, truly, was Rose.

The two Roses were still staring at each other, comprehension and joyous wonder dawning on their mirror faces. She no longer had to fight the overwhelming twin loves in her heart tearing her apart - because she had literally been torn in two. They each turned their back on the love they had lost in that parting, and faced their own single love, trying to convey the truth with their shining eyes.

Seeing it, the Doctor's twin hearts stopped. Everything else fell away as he stared into her beloved face. He raised one hand and slowly reached to touch her hair, almost flinching back when he felt it actually slide across his fingertips, then gently, with the lightest, feather touch, he caressed her cheek. When she remained, warm and solid beneath his fingers, and didn't melt away into yet another nightmare, he raised his other hand and touched her other cheek, as well. _She's real. This is happening. I'm not dreaming._ As the dawning realization slid across his tortured brain, his face crumpled, and the words he'd held in for so very long began to tumble out.

"I'm sorry. Oh, god, I'm so sorry. I should never have left you. I should _never_... I love you. I love you so much. I'd do anything for just one more chance. Please forgive me. Please..."

Unable to speak, tears pouring down her cheeks, Rose simply nodded, then drew him close as he clutched at her, holding him tight while his shoulders shook with his suppressed sobs, his head on her shoulder.

(John, who had come around to stand beside Jenny, leaned over and whispered to her: "I think that qualifies as a miracle." She raised her eyebrows. "Works for me!" she whispered back, and they grinned at each other.)

^..^

Several long minutes later, the Doctor raised his head again, and began to look around. His eyes met his twin's, and for a long, long moment they simply stared.

The Doctor broke the silence. "Oh, how I've _hated_ you," he said in a low voice. "You've no idea."

Corin glanced at the woman kneeling by the Doctor. "Oh, I think I do."

"Still. I guess I've got no choice but to forgive you. After all, your only crime was loving her." He nodded towards Corin's Rose.

"And genocide." The Doctor's eyes shot back to Corin. "But then, you've got to forgive yourself for that, first." The Doctor looked away, struck. "She can help you with that, you know."

The Doctor closed his eyes, struck again, then gave a mirthless laugh. "Giving it back to me?"

"Yeah," Corin shot back. "How does it feel?"

A wave of fury swamped the Doctor. He turned on Corin, vicious. "_Fuck_ you, that's how it feels. You have no fucking idea what I've been through. Just don't even – " He suddenly bit off what he was going to say, closing his mouth with a snap and shutting down, stock still.

Every one in the room was gaping at him, utterly shocked at this completely out-of-character outburst. Corin managed to recover first. "My god," he said quietly. "What the hell happened?"

He got up and crossed over to the Doctor, kneeling down again beside him. He reached out, hesitated, then put his hand on the Doctor's shoulder, aware that this was the first time either of them had ever actually touched the other. "Doctor," he said, with quiet emphasis. "What happened?"

The Doctor finally opened his eyes again, looking up at Corin, tortured, then recognized him as the one man in any universe who might actually understand. He began to whisper, brokenly, as if to speak the words any louder would cause his hearts to break again – which they might have, at that.

"The Master came back. I don't know how. And somehow he broke the Time Lock. He brought THEM out. All of them. Gallifrey was hanging over the Earth. And... " He paused, swallowing, and Corin squeezed his shoulder. "They were going to go through with it. My god. The end of all time. They were _going to go through with it._" He stopped again, took a deep breath, and choked out, "I had to send them back, put them back into the Time Lock. _I had to send them all back._"

Corin's knee collapsed and he sat, hard, still holding the Doctor's shoulder. He shook his head, trying to find words that would reach through the misery. "You did the right thing. You did the only thing you _could_ do. And it was the _right_ thing to do."

The Doctor was shaking his head, though. "You don't understand. I _caused_ it. I made it happen! I went too far – I tried to change a fixed point, and I went too far, and I caused it." He was starting to sound hysterical, and Corin fought the urge to shake him.

"What fixed point?"

Another head shake. "It doesn't matter. I just... I went too far." And he closed his eyes again, burying his face in his hands.

Corin decided he wasn't buying it. "Bullshit. You've never believed in Cosmic Justice before, and I still don't. And I don't think you do, either. You didn't _cause_ the Master to do what he did, unless you resurrected him yourself. And _he's_ the one who did the rest. Not you. _Him."_

The Doctor looked up at him again, wanting to believe him, but then he shook his head again. "The Ood..."

"What? Got into your head? – Will you turn that crap off, please?" he said to Jenny, suddenly aware that the Ood Lament was still playing. She quickly whispered to the TARDIS, and the eerie music shut off, leaving an abrupt, blessed silence. "Thank you." Corin turned back to the Doctor. "No wonder they're in your head, if you're always playing their song."

The Doctor wanted to believe him, but shook his head again. "You weren't there. The Ood – they knew things. They were the ones who told me the Master had risen again, that the end had come. If it hadn't been for them, I wouldn't have made it in time."

"OK, fine, I'll give you that. But there's something else, there's got to be, something you're not telling me, that's gotten into you and twisted things around." He thought for a minute. Then, softly, "You saw the Council?" The Doctor nodded, eyes twisted shut. "_She_ was there?"

Again, he nodded. In a tortured whisper, he managed to get out: "I had to send her back. _I had to send her back._" And he buried his face in his hands again, broken, as the horror of what he'd done washed over him again.

Corin simply stared at him, letting the realization soak in. A tiny voice in his head, which took him a beat to recognize as his Rose, asked _Corin?_ He gave her the answer, and her gasp alerted the others. When they looked at her, she soundlessly mouthed the terrible truth. _His mother._

The Doctor had been forced to lock up his own mother with the rest of Gallifrey, to prevent the end of all time, everywhere.

The Doctor's Rose's gasp mirrored her twin's, and she moved even closer to the Doctor, turning her head and laying it on his back, as if she could warm his hearts with her own.

Corin reached out with his mind, tentatively, and touched the Doctor's, seeing the scene as it had played out – he didn't have to dig; it was right there on the surface. He shook his head, again, speaking as he realized: "You did the right thing. And she knew it. She could have stopped you with a word, but she didn't – because she knew if she hadn't gone back, too, the lock would have been incomplete, and the others would have escaped again, and again. _You did the right thing._ With her blessing." He reached out with his other hand, then, putting it behind the Doctor's neck and pulling him in to hold him close, trying to will the acceptance of absolution into his twin's soul. Finally, he felt the Doctor begin to relax, and thought it just might have begun to work. "I can't take this from you. I wish I could, but I can't."

Then a new thought struck him, and he actually grinned. It showed in his voice, too: "But what I _can_ do, is send you on a kick-ass vacation."

_Everybody_ looked at him, then, startled, even the Doctor. Both Roses caught on at the same time, one from his mind, one from his face and her own memory. They both smiled, and exclaimed in unison: "Bora Bora!"

Corin nodded. "Bora Bora."


	10. Tropic of Glass

**Tropic of Glass**

The Doctor and Rose stood on the sand, hand in hand, listening to the fading _whoosh_ behind them, looking out onto... paradise. Picture postcard tropical bay, all the usual superlatives applied.

Only a few minutes, subjectively, had passed since he was huddled on the tile floor staring at twin Roses. Corin had bundled the pair into the TARDIS, giving Jenny the coordinates of the secluded bungalow that he and Rose had bought on an "insane impulse" on their very last day in Bora Bora. "Now I know why," he'd grinned. He gave Jenny STRICT orders to deposit them a week after the purchase, then LEAVE THEM there, hopping forward seventeen months to pick them up again a week before the Night of the Miracle. _Nine hundred years of time travel, _thought the Doctor, _and I'm struggling to work out a simple loop. Yep. I need a vacation._

He felt Rose squeeze his hand, and looked at her. "Are you sure you're all right?" he asked.

She smiled at him. "Yes, I'm sure. Got all my marbles. Both my hands, too." She turned it back to him. "Are _you_ OK?"

He shook his head. "My head's still spinning." He tried to say more, then gave it up. He felt wiped out, exhausted by the simple effort of thinking.

She squeezed his hand again and led him to the bungalow, then let go and hopped up onto the low porch, unlocked the french doors, and walked into the living room. She dropped the gym bag her twin had hastily packed with a few tropical clothes for the two of them (leftovers from the previous trip), and stretched out her arms to both sides, spinning around, soaking in the rattan-and-seashell atmosphere. "Ooooooh, just as gorgeous as I remember. And look, the bedroom gives onto the porch, too." She walked into the other room, then turned to grin at him – and discovered he hadn't even followed her inside. She looked out the other set of french doors and found him sitting on the edge of the porch, head in hands.

She opened the door and walked quietly to his side, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Doctor?" she called softly.

He lifted his head and reached across his chest, taking her hand and kissing it, then patted the porch beside him, transferring her hand to hold in their old familiar clasp as she slid down. He stared out over the water for a few moments, then said "Forgive me, Rose, I know how arrogant this sounds, but... I think I'm beginning to understand how you lot must feel sometimes. I can't keep up." He turned to her, all confusion. "What the hell just happened?"

She opened her mouth to reply, and closed it again. Then, with a small laugh, she asked, "How far back do you want me to go?"

He spluttered a bit, completely at a loss. She took pity on him, "What's the last thing you remember clearly?"

He thought, trying to reach past the cobwebs. "TARDIS. Jenny. _Just_ Jenny. We were..." He took a deep breath and dredged up the memory. "We were chasing down a couple of.. Sontarans. They were hopping around, wrecking stuff." He floundered a bit more, then shrugged. "That's it."

She took up the story, as told earlier by Jenny. "They were hopping around in some wreckage they'd found, right? Apparently it was of Time Lord origin. It locked onto that piece of TARDIS coral you gave Corin, remember?" He glanced at her sharply, but said nothing, so she went on. "And your TARDIS did, too. They both came here, to our universe, about 300 years ahead, John's time period. You remember John, in the TARDIS just now? He's our descendant. Anyway, you heard them knocking around inside the house and went in after them, and ran into our portrait, Corin's and mine."

He glanced again, and this time picked it up. " 'Corin'?"

"He gave up 'the Doctor' when we got here, and took the name Corin Gallifrey."

"Ah. OK." Filing that away to consider later, he backtracked onto the other part of the sentence. "Portrait? Wait... the painting! I remember it now... " He stared out again, trying to remember, then shook his head. "Then what?"

"The Sontarans grabbed you, and... put you into the mirrors."

This time, he swiveled fully towards her, eyes wide. "The mirrors...!" Things finally started clicking into place in his tired, sore brain. "I thought they were windows... All I remember is millions of windows, all coming at me at once. I was just... " He floundered again. "I was looking for something. No, someone. No, I was looking for you!" His eyes drifted back out to sea again, as more bits of memory surfaced. "I was... I heard... "

He gasped in slow motion, eyes wide, his head coming upright as another picture flashed onto his mental movie screen. One from much further back, from the TARDIS: the wall of his room, where he had scrawled out his anguish in blood-red paint across the coral. _How could I have left you? How can you not be here?.._ "How did I know?" he whispered. An icy cat's paw slipped down his spine.

Rose was beside him, warm and alive. She gently touched his arm with her free hand. "Doctor?"

His glance skittered sideways. "It was something I wrote, a few years ago." He took a deep breath, and skipped the first two lines. "I wrote, '_All I am is shards of pain – no light, no heat, no sound. Nothing exists but the echo of your name_.' " He shook his head. "How could I have known? That's _exactly_ what it was like in the mirrors. How could I have written that before it happened?" He stared at Rose, desperately needing an answer.

All Rose could do was shrug. "Wibbly wobbly timey wimey?" She tried a small smile, trying to comfort him somehow.

He stared a moment longer, then sighed. "I guess..." He shook his head. "I don't usually have this much trouble with that, though."

She couldn't help it; she chuckled at him. "Well, usually you're not on the receiving end of it – you're the one dishing it out to everybody else!"

That got him. He snorted, and then began chuckling as well. "All right, OK. You win, Rose Tyler." He took a deep breath, and relaxed a bit, accepting it. "OK. Mirrors. So that's what it's like." He rubbed his face with his free hand, then turned back to her. "So how did you get me out?"

She gave him the rundown on Jenny's beacon and her one-two punch. He whistled. "Wow. And she thought all that up? Bloody brilliant." He leaned towards Rose, sharing a secret. "She gets that from her Dad, you know." He tried a grin, but it was a bit weak, still.

"I know." Her grin was only a bit stronger. "She missed one thing, though. You were still holding my hand when she hit you with the Vortex energy, and it wrapped me up, too. Corin tried to pull me away – and that's when the Vortex split me in two."

He started to say something, then looked away, out over the crystal water, wanting desperately to ask why, but shying away once again. He wasn't ready yet to hear it.

She leaned her head on his shoulder, letting him be. Holding hands as in the old days, they watched the wind toy with the waves as the shadows from the palms crept across the sand, digesting what had happened.

Rose was exploring the incredible peacefulness suffusing her soul. She was free for the first time in five years from the inner turmoil, the constant struggle to suppress her longing for this man beside her. She thought of Corin, and smiled. He "felt" like a good friend, but that was all. Her feelings now for the man who had been her husband were nothing compared to the incandescent love glowing inside her for the Doctor.

Her mind slipped back to just an hour before, ripping herself apart, destroying – she thought – every vestige of peace and happiness she and Corin had so painfully built for five long years out of depression and frustration – and undying love and respect. Pouring her heart out, calling her lost love to her side in order to save him. Watching him take form, reaching for his hand – when she had finally touched it, touched _him, _a thousand-megawatt jolt of pure, sweet electricity had shot through every cell in her body, and for one fleeting, eternal moment she had held pure bliss in her hand.

She knew she'd never forget the next few seconds, as the Doctor first turned pure, eye-piercingly white, then softer, sparking gold from the twin bolts of energy. When the Vortex had slipped onto, and then into, herself, she thought her heart might burst – not from the energy, but from the heartache that it brought screaming back into her consciousness. Then when Corin had grabbed her, and she knew it was him, and half of her wanted to turn and cling to him as the most important person in the universe – and the other half knew _that_ was the man whose hand she still gripped, still being regenerated – she thought she might be literally ripped in two.

And she had been. She had almost _heard_ herself being torn apart, as Corin had fallen away with half of her – his half – and the other half – herself – had tumbled to the floor beside the Doctor. Catching her breath, seeing the Doctor lying there next to her, all thoughts of anyone other than him had instantly fled, and she'd rushed to help him. It hadn't been until she'd heard... _herself..._ exclaim, and turned to look, that she'd realized what had happened. The joy she'd felt then, knowing the torment was over, would live in her newly-healed heart forever.

She sighed, mentally returning to the blissful, peaceful present, sitting beside the one and only Doctor, holding his hand, head resting on his shoulder. The only place she ever wanted to be again. With a last mental farewell embrace, she let go of Corin, of the past five years, and simply existed in this moment.

The shadows from the coconut palms drifted silently as they watched, reaching to dapple the shells lying in the cool, clear water.

Without turning, the Doctor asked softly, "Were you happy?"

She considered. "Except for this part of me, that's always belonged to you, yes. We were happy. We've got – _they've_ got a good life. A rich, full life, with two kids – and no mortgage."

Another long silence. Then, even softer, "You were bonded with him?"

Wondering how he knew that, she simply answered, "Yes."

"Can you still..."

"No."

He started to speak, again, and again shied away. _Why can't I just tell her what I want to say?_ Trouble was, he didn't even know what that was. Sitting there beside her, in the tropical paradise, he just wanted to simply _be_, for a while. He didn't want to go provoking that old paralyzing fear, that had always prevented him from speaking. Always. At the moment, things were peaceful.

She waited a few minutes, then said, again, "Yes." _Yes, I love you. Yes, I'd bond with you. Yes, I'll always be here, right beside you. Yes yes yes._ She didn't say any of these things, though. She couldn't cross that barrier. It was _his_ barrier. _He_ had to breach it.

He'd tilted his head towards her, almost as if he could hear what she was thinking. He rested his head on hers for a minute, then suddenly twisted around, slipping to his knees in the sand in front of her. Still holding her hand in his left, he lifted his other hand and began tracing the outline of her face with feather-light fingers; his eyes, now level with hers, full of wonder at the miracle of her being there. His forefinger reached her lips, and he slowly traced the outline, concentrating as if his life depended on his memorizing every tiny curve.

Circuit complete, his hand dropped down to take her other one, and he brought them both up and kissed them, then slowly lowered them back down to rest in her lap. He raised his eyes back to hers, and they began filling again with remembered pain.

"I'm broken," was all he could say.

"Then let me heal you," she whispered back.

The simplest thing in the world. The hardest thing he'd ever done. He leaned forward, and put his lips to hers.

And at long, long last, began to heal.

^..^

A long time later, Rose whispered into the dark, "Doctor?"

"Hm?"

"I thought Time Lords were... I thought it was Corin's human half that..."

She felt him smile against her hair. "First fifteen hours of regeneration. Some parts of that still work." He paused. "I am what you made me."

"Yeah?" She considered, eyebrows raised. "_Damn_, I do good work."

He snorted, then bent his head to nibble her ear. "Yeah. You do."


	11. Crystal Bay

**Crystal Bay**

Two mornings after the Night of the Miracle (as they continued to call it), Corin and Rose were enjoying a leisurely breakfast, watching Donna experience her very first spoonfuls of pureed peaches. The day before had been utterly blissful, even more wonderful than their anniversary, because the shadow of the Doctor had at long last been exorcised from between them. That evening, after putting Donna to bed, they had re-enacted the formation of their Time Lord life bond, strengthening it even further, and flinging open all the doors in their memories. Not all those doors were stepped through, but the knowledge that there was nothing left to hide was joyfully liberating to them both.

So it was that they were startled down to their toes when they heard, again, the last sound they expected: the old familiar _whoosh_ coming from the front hall. Rose scooped Donna out of her high chair, wiping her face of the last bit of peach, and padded with her down the corridor after Corin. They stopped just inside the hall, staring apprehensively at the big blue box that had appeared in the same spot as two nights before.

The door opened, and the Doctor leaned against it, crossing arms and legs. Tanned. Relaxed. Smiling like he hadn't smiled in decades.

"Oh, now _that's_ better!" exclaimed Corin, voice full of satisfaction.

The Doctor's smile got even broader, and his Rose peeked, equally tanned and grinning, around from behind the other door. Characteristically, the Doctor jumped past the pleasantries and started right in. "Two things! Weird – I'm always saying 'two things!' Anyway! One." A dramatic pause, grin dropping, and then he said, straight to Corin, with quiet emphasis, "Thank you. For everything." The grin slid back on. "That's the best vacation I've _ever _had."

"You're welcome," came the smiling reply. "Two?"

"Two. We've come to issue an invitation, to take one last very special trip with us in the TARDIS."

"Where?" He knew there had to be something going on.

The Doctor looked straight at him for several beats, then said, so sincerely and plaintively that it caught their hearts, "I want to go home." He tipped his head sideways at his Rose. "She said you found Kasterborous on the Hubble star charts."

Corin's eyes were wide. "Yeah, but it's way too far away to tell if the _planet_ exists in this universe."

The Doctor nodded. "I know. But even if it doesn't, even if all we do is just hang in space for a few minutes and see the twin suns, it would be worth it." He turned to Corin's Rose. "You can't even get that close in our universe. The whole sector's locked." He turned back to Corin, and simply tipped his head, asking.

Corin took a deep, shaky breath. "Yeah."

The Doctor turned to Corin's Rose and tipped his head again, eyebrows raised. "I promise, no matter how long we're actually gone, we'll have you back here ten minutes from now." He nodded back towards Jenny, standing by the console. "She really is that good."

Rose smiled. "Yeah. OK. – Is it safe to bring the baby?"

Her twin answered: "Yep. Just grab the car seat, along with the diaper bag!" She laughed at Corin's questioning eyes, pointing her finger at him like she used to, "Just wait till you see this!"

"This" turned out to be a newly-built section of the control room, against the wall opposite the Captain's chair. A large rectangular open-faced box of the metal grating had been welded into place, with web belts for securing infant car seats inside. It even had a section of grating across the top, so nothing could fall on the precious cargo, and the entire box was lined with thick padding. On either end of the box a pair of adult-sized bucket-type car seats had also been welded in for passengers.

"I'm not taking _any_ chances with my niece," the Doctor told Corin, grinning. "Ready, Rose?" he called.

"Ready!" both women answered together.

The Doctor, already turning towards the console, spun back around, amusedly irritated. "No, no, no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-NO! This is NOT going to cut the program!" He thought a moment. "Just for today, YOU" and he pointed towards Corin's Rose "are – Marion," he decided, using her own middle name. "And YOU," he added, pointing to his own, "are... Rosita. Don't ask," he said quickly to Corin. Then, startling everyone, he suddenly spun around and pointed at John, waiting beside Jenny at the console. "THAT'S who you remind me of! It's been driving me nuts for eighteen months!" He grinned. "Are you related to the Lake family, by any chance?"

John smiled, still confused. "My mother was a Lake!"

"Ah-HA! Founded by one Jackson Lake, who arrived in London from the south in... 1851, am I right?" John nodded. The Doctor's broad smile softened, as did his tone. "He was a good man. A very good man. I was honored to know him." Brightening again, "You come from good stock, John Gallifrey – on both sides!"

As nobody else in the TARDIS had any idea who he was talking about, they just smiled and let it go. The Doctor was being... the Doctor. Again. (If Jenny ducked her head and wiped away a sudden tear, nobody "noticed".)

Baby secured, they gathered around the center console – suddenly aware that they were six again. The Doctor gestured at Jenny, who grinned and took charge. "We're taking this in two jumps. First stop is in space, just outside the constellation, to take final readings. Ready?" She threw the switch and worked a lever, showing John beside her what to do at his console. Each of the two Time Lords did the same, directing their Rose. The flight, so reminiscent of flying the Earth home from the Dalek Crucible, was infinitely smoother this time without a planet in tow. Only a few moments passed before Jenny announced, "We're there!" and nodded to the Doctor.

He took a deep breath and walked slowly to the door, Corin a pace behind. He placed his palm lightly on the door for a moment, almost afraid to open it, then swiftly snatched it wide. Corin opened the other door beside him, and they both gasped at the achingly familiar sight.

Stretched across the space before them lay the awe-inspiring swirls and eddies of the Porterion Nebula, the dust and plasma cloud glowing in all the mind-bending hues of the rainbow, from purple to red and back again. Within the swirls were handfuls of stars already formed, flung across the sky like a giant's marbles, teasing the proto-stars still to be born with their dancing rays. And there, dead center, were the Twin Suns of Galloran and Gallissa, endlessly circling each other in their cosmic dance. Corin and the Doctor stared wide-eyed, drinking in the sight they thought they'd never see again save in dreams.

They would have stood gazing forever, but Jenny's voice came triumphantly from behind. "It's there!" They didn't have to ask what. With one reverent, long, last look, the two men silently closed the doors and returned to the console, nodding at the pilot to proceed. A few sways and bumps later, she looked up again and smiled, waving them back to the door.

The Doctor's hands were visibly shaking this time, as he slowly reached for the latch. Again, he hesitated, then swung the door wide. Fresh air flooded the console room as a prying wind swept inside, bringing tantalizing odors of woody, growing things, overlaid with a salty, metallic tang that spoke of a nearby sea. Eyes huge, tears already starting, the Doctor and Corin silently stepped out onto the soil of Gallifrey. Of Home.

As the others filed out behind them, the two Time Lords walked into the knee-high red grass and found themselves standing atop a rocky cliff, overlooking a huge inlet. Distantly, beyond the tumbled teeth guarding the entrance to the bay, huge waves could be heard crashing against the rugged shore, while beneath their feet the tamed remains of those same waves lapped gently over blue diamond sands. Overhead, the sky arched tawny gold from horizon to horizon, cloud-free.

Corin spun slowly on his heel, taking in the line of mountains running parallel to the shore some distance away, and came to a stop facing back behind the TARDIS. His eyes traveled up, and UP, and he almost fell over backwards as his jaw dropped with incredulous delight. "Rose!", he cried, forgetting the temporary renaming. He pointed back and UP. "THAT... is a corin tree!"

The others spun to see, and gasped in unison. The corin climbed skyward, reaching over three hundred feet in the air, and then gracefully poured its long leafy vines down again to the ground. The flashing leaves flung silver and gold lights in every direction, as the breeze tossed them around, reflecting sun and sky to the watchers below.

"That's not just a corin," came the Doctor's reverential voice. "That's a great-great-grandfather corin." He walked over to where the vines were just brushing the grass, silver amid the red, and reached out, gently grasping handfuls of vines and letting them trail through his fingers. He walked further in towards the massive trunk, gazing up into the canopy. Suddenly, his gaze sharpened. "And it's sprouting!" He spun towards the others. "Jenny, give me your knife!"

She reached down to her boot and drew a stiletto from the sheath, tossing it to her father hilt first. He snatched it out of the air and grinned, then put it between his teeth, turned and sprang up, catching hold of the lowest branch and swinging up on top of it, then stretching and climbing further and further up. Corin laughed, "Show-off!", then ran himself the few steps to the branch, jumped up, and began climbing up after his twin.

Some forty feet up, the Doctor came to a large branch splitting off the trunk almost parallel to the ground. Nestled against the trunk, growing from the joining, was a pale grey shoot, just two feet long. The Doctor sat on the branch, hanging his legs down on either side, and gently pried the shoot loose with the knife, then turned it and began peeling the outer fibers off from the lower end. When he had several inches peeled, he cut it off, and was about to pop it into his mouth when Corin called up from two branches below, "Oi! Don't get greedy!"

He grimaced, then grinned down, and used the knife to split the section end to end, carefully dropping one piece down into Corin's waiting hand. Corin settled himself on his own branch, and slowly, lovingly placed one end of his shoot in his mouth, closing his eyes with a blissful smile as he began chewing. Laughing, the Doctor copied him, gesture for gesture.

"Oi!" came floating up from below. They both looked down into grinning faces, 'Rosita' crossing her arms and tapping a foot, expectantly. The Doctor laughed and cut off another long section, peeling it, then leaned far out to drop it down. "Share that out, and I'll find some more. Chew it like sugar cane, but don't swallow the pulp! It's good for teething youngsters, too, so pop some in Donna's mouth and let her enjoy a taste of home!"

The two men spent the next several minutes clambering about the tree like schoolboys, gathering a couple dozen more shoots. They dropped half of them down to the others, then found a pair of comfortable perches a few feet apart and settled in, peeling shoots and chewing, drinking in the memories that the spicy, woody sticks tugged out.

The Doctor broke the long, comfortable silence. "Corin? The things you told me that night? … You were right. About everything." He paused, looking wistfully off into the distance. "I wish..."

Corin watched him for a minute, then his mouth quirked. "The Lonely Angel," he intoned, quoting Reinette.

The Doctor grimaced, and shot him a dart. "You know, I finally figured that out. It's Renaissance French for 'sucks to be you!'" He grinned, lopsidedly, then turned serious again. "Anyway, thank you. Again."

Corin smiled. "That's what brothers are for!"

The Doctor didn't smile. "'Brother'? After what I did?"

Corin was genuinely puzzled. "You think you pushed me into staying here? I saw what was coming! I saw my chance and grabbed it, with both hands. Didn't you see my hatbox in my back pocket?" He shook his head, and added, a little softer, "I wouldn't trade this life for _anything._ I have _exactly_ what I want. Especially now."

A beat. Then, tentatively, "You don't hold it against me?"

The Doctor shook his head. "No... no." They looked at each other for a long minute more, then they both smiled simultaneously. At long last, able to be friends.

^..^

Down below, the others had dragged out some blankets and spread them in the grass beneath the corin canopy, peeling shoots and chewing on the surprisingly delicious pulpy cores. Donna was cooing her approval, too – apparently the texture was perfect for sore gums.

John was staring around him in delight, eyes wide with wonder. "I'm actually on another planet! Amazing!" Jenny laughed with him, realizing that he alone of the group had never had been planet-hopping before. "But where are the people?" he continued.

She shook her head. "None in this universe. Eons ago, when the Time Lords had the ability to hop universes, they discovered that the planet didn't even exist in many of them, and in the ones where it did, it was uninhabited. No, the Time Lords only arose once, in all of creation."

Donna fretted, having lost her twig. The two Roses leaned over her on their shared blanket, laughing. They caught each other's eyes, then, and paused, both caught by the same thought; the memory of that night they had been split apart. Silently, they asked each other if they were OK; reading the answers in each other's eyes. Seeing their own fulfilled joy reflected in their twin.

They smiled, and turned to greet their men as they dropped from the tree.

^..^

Corin stepped towards the cliff again. "Where _are_ we, anyway?"

The Doctor shrugged. "I don't know. Jenny, where did you put us down?"

"Um... it was the western edge of the largest continent, I think, about halfway up the side."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "Wild Endeavor?" he said, naming the continent. He looked east. "OK, then those are the Mountains of Solace and Solitude, and _that_," pointing to the highest peak, "is Mount Hope."

Corin was looking the other way. "Those look like the Singing Rocks, though I can't hear anything," he commented, pointing to the pieces of cliff broken away at the mouth of the bay.

"Too far away," answered the Doctor. "You're right, though. Which means that _this_..." sweeping his arm across the inlet, "is Crystal Bay!" They finished the sentence together, grinning.

Suddenly both grins got even bigger, and they shouted in unison, "Tassies!", then positively _leapt_ down the thirty-foot cliff to the sand below.

"What!" cried both Roses, running after. "Oysters!" laughed 'Marion', picking the answer out of her bond mate's mind.

"Oi! You don't eat them raw, do you?" 'Rosita' called. "Nope, steamed!" she relayed the answer from her own mate. ('Marion' glanced at her and grinned, realizing just then that her twin and the Doctor had formed their own life bond.) "We're going to need a big pot! Jenny, is there one in the TARDIS kitchen?"

Jenny laughed, and went to find one, as well as a bucket for collecting the tassies, and other odds and ends. John realized a bonfire was called for, and went off in search of firewood.

^..^

A few hours later, the travelers were relaxing, sated and happy, around a cheerfully snapping fire between the TARDIS and the corin, watching the last of the brilliant purple sunset fade from the burnt orange sky. The Time Lords had proved themselves master chefs once again, shelling the tassies and wrapping them up in sweet grass and purple seaweed before putting them into the pot to steam. They had also dug up a dozen green potato-like roots, sliced them up along with a few more corin shoots, and put them into another pot to boil in the water from the fresh spring John had discovered nearby. There were even sweet yellow berries from the low bushes beside the spring for dessert.

"Look!" cried Jenny from the blanket she shared with John. "The stars are coming out."

All six adults lay back on their blankets to take in the awe-inspiring sight, as pinpoints of starlight began to shine through the orange, bringing along wisps of other colors from the fantastic nebula behind.

After a few minutes, Corin raised himself back up on an elbow. "You know, Doctor" he began, deceptively conversational, "it occurs to me that you're the patriarch of our little clan."

The Doctor looked across the fire, confused. Corin simply raised his eyebrows, then glanced deliberately at Donna, nestled in her mother's arms next to him, then up at the evening sky, then back at the Doctor, waiting.

The Doctor slowly sat up as he realized what Corin was asking. Eyes glistening, he rose to his feet and stepped over to their blanket. "May I?" he asked 'Marion', before taking Donna from her arms. He carried her a few feet from the fire, away from the corin, under the open sky. The others all gathered themselves up to watch, as he turned the baby in his arms so she was facing him, head supported by one hand.

He smiled. "Never thought I'd get the chance to do this. Hi!" he grinned as she smiled at him, then giggled as she gurgled back. Then he turned serious again, and pitching his voice so the others could hear, began the ancient Gallifreyan rite.

"Child of Gallifrey – Child of Earth:

"I give you your first name, Donna Marie. May you bear it in honor, until the day you find your own.

"I give you your Self, which you will never lose, no matter where the winds of time and trouble blow you.

"I give you laughter, and I give you tears, for both are required for a life well and truly lived.

"I give you fire and ice, earth and air, that you may know balance when you find it.

"I give you the love of beauty and of justice, that you may seek them both always.

"I give you the wisdom of your elders, and the wonder of youth, that you may joyfully seek knowledge all your days.

"I give you the dreams of the past, and the hopes of the future, that you may fulfill them both.

"I give you love and respect, that you may offer them always to whomever you may meet.

"I give you life, the most precious gift of all.

"And finally, Child of Gallifrey, Child of Earth, I give you the stars, the only thing greater than yourself." And he lifted her up, facing the heavens, holding her there for a long moment. The stars shone their gentle light upon her, and the heavens danced.


	12. Refractions

**Refractions**

The Doctor held Donna up to the starlight for several double heartbeats after the naming ceremony, then slowly brought her down again, looking into her solemn infant eyes, then bringing her close to kiss her forehead. He held her there a long, silent moment, breathing in the sweet scent of baby hair.

He turned back to the fire, and took her the long way around, bending down so that each of the adults could kiss her their blessing. When he reached Jenny, he paused, down on one knee, and told her, "I wish I could have done this for your birth."

She smiled at him, tears prickling. "Well, I was a bit big for you to hold up that way."

He flashed a grin, then went serious again. "Still. Jenny... I haven't had a chance to thank you, for masterminding my rescue. And for everything else, too – like just putting up with me the last twelve years." He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Thank you."

A tear escaped, but she still smiled. "Just not ready to grow up and be without my Dad yet, that's all." She reached to hug him, and he returned it one-armed, transferring Donna to the other.

The Doctor dropped to his knee again to give Donna back to her mother, then sat on his heels, gazing solemnly at Rose. He'd long said everything that needed to be said to his own Rose, but here was someone else who needed to hear it. He spoke softly, so that only she (and Corin, next to her) could hear. "I'm sorry. There were many reasons, most of them not pretty, but also... I was trying to give you a good life, the kind of life you could never have had with me. The kind of life that _he_ could give you." A beat. "I hope that someday you can forgive me for everything I put you through."

She smiled at him, shaking her head. "I wouldn't have been torn apart that night if I didn't truly love Corin. I love my life, _our_ life. And now..." She gestured across the fire, then shook her head again. "If you need my forgiveness, you have it."

They gazed at each other a moment longer, smiling softly. Then he nodded and returned to his own blanket, dropping down on his knees again to kiss his bondmate tenderly, then turning and stretching out on his back, laying his head on her lap.

He reached up with one hand and lightly stroked her cheek. _*Speaking of ceremonies..*._ he thought at her on their private telepathic link. _*We never have had our own bonding celebration.*_

She looked down at him, solemn. _*Does it need saying?*_ He blinked, struck by having his own words echoed back to him, but she put her finger on his lips, quieting him, silently asking him to reflect on it.

It hadn't exactly been a carefree honeymoon, the past eighteen months. Paralyzing fear and long-term depression don't give up their victims easily. And she'd quickly realized that he was, indeed, clinically depressed. More than once she'd wished for access to the pharmacopeia that had helped her through her bout of post-partum depression after Tyler was born, realizing even as she wished it that some of the drugs would probably kill him, and the rest wouldn't have any effect. So she'd reached, instead, for the methods and patience of her therapist, and worked always to simply let him feel her love and support every day.

The breakthrough had come after several weeks, when she'd broken down and literally screamed at him one day in the living room, wordlessly, when her frustration at his shutting down and shutting her out got the best of her and pushed her over the edge. Shocked to his toes, he'd stared at her, and then suddenly just screamed back. He'd collapsed onto his knees, arms crossed protectively over his head, wilting over till his forehead touched the floor as well, and just continued to scream and scream and scream.

She'd stood frozen for several long minutes, terrified at the sight of him losing control, then slowly recognized the catharsis, flashing back to her own the day after their return from Bad Wolf Bay, sobbing wildly in Corin's arms. She sank down and put her arms around his torso, simply holding him as Corin had her, letting it flow, as the screams turned to sobs.

Finally, after what felt like days, he'd drifted to silence, utterly spent, and she'd somehow gotten him to his feet and put him to bed. He'd slept for twenty solid hours, dreamlessly, unmoving.

When he slowly woke the next day, he found her sitting in the chair next to the bed, simply waiting. He silently held out his arms, and she came into them. They spent the rest of that day in bed, talking quietly and making love, beginning at last to truly heal the wounds in his soul, washed clean by the storm. That hadn't been the last rocky stretch, but it was by _far_ the worst, and easily the turning point.

It was a few weeks later that he asked if she would form the telepathic Time Lord life bond with him. He had thought in the past that would take a supreme act of courage and will, but in the end, it came simply and easily, smoothed by the love they shared. As did the bonding itself. He no longer feared her seeing the sins of his past; he knew she'd already seen them in Corin's memory, or heard the recent ones from his own lips, and had forgiven them long before.

He made her another promise that day: that he would never shut her out again, that he would _always_ be open to her, and tell her what needed to be said. And he always did. Not a day went by that he didn't tell her how much he loved her, and always needed her beside him. And not a day went by that they didn't find a moment to celebrate their bond.

No, it didn't need saying. It was said every day.

^..^

Some time later, John broke the silence. "I always wondered where that naming ceremony came from. We still christen our children that way – not quite those exact words, but close – in my time. It's one of the family traditions." He looked up and sighed. "I didn't have quite this majestic array of stars to present my kids to, though."

'Marion' asked him, "How many kids do you have?"

"Two. Jason, the elder, is at University now, breaking all the young ladies' hearts, and his sister, Caroline, is giving him a run for his money in the other direction." He paused, and gave a small, sad smile. "My wife passed away several years ago."

She replied, "Oh, but you're young yet. You may find someone else."

He shook his head. "I'm afraid, my lady, that it's become a well-known Gallifrey family trait to fall in love but once. It's very rare for any of your descendants to even divorce, let alone remarry, even if they're widowed. I may buck that trend, but the odds are against it." He shot an apologetic glance sideways at Jenny without the others seeing, and she reached over and squeezed his hand in understanding.

The Doctor asked, "How far ahead did you come back from? Three hundred years?"

John nodded. "Two hundred eighty-six, to be precise."

The Doctor grimaced, and turned to Jenny. "We've still gotta go catch those Sontarans, don't we?"

She gave him an unexpectedly wicked grin. "Nope. They've already been taken care of."

He stared, growing concerned, especially when John began laughing beside her. "What did you _do?"_ he demanded.

"Me? Nothing!" she said, radiating innocence. She kept him in suspense a moment longer, then said, "Let me put it this way. The next time you run into any Sontarans, if you care about them at all – which I doubt, but just in case – you might want to educate them about that strange little Earth device known as..." She drew it out, grinning, then gave the punch line, enunciating it primly: "the _electric fence."_

As the mental image broke across his mind, the Doctor threw his head back and _howled_, everyone else joining him a second later. They laughed till their sides hurt – every time they managed to calm down, the Doctor started giggling again, and off they went, tears of laughter streaming.

^..^

A long time later, finally quiet again, they lay gazing at the stars. Donna began to fuss, wanting sleep. As his wife soothed her, Corin began to hum, then sing a soft, lyrical song in Gallifreyan. The Doctor looked across at him for a moment, then joined in. When they reached the obvious end, Corin began it again in Gallifreyan, and the Doctor switched to English.

_Starlight beckons  
weary traveler  
time is flowing  
follow after_

_Worlds to see_  
_far horizons  
new traditions  
taste and wonder_

_Hearth and family  
call you home  
leave the starlanes  
follow your hearts_

_Familiar pathway  
to your doorstep  
rest your head  
welcome home_

A sweet, blissful sigh went around the fire. "That's so lovely," someone breathed.

'Marion' turned to Corin. "Was that the song I caught you humming that time? You wouldn't sing it, though, you just said it wasn't yours to sing. You never did explain."

Corin shook his head. "No. That was another song." He fell silent again.

The Doctor raised his head, curious. Corin caught his eye. "Tis'hania's Tears."

"Ah." The Doctor lowered his head again, gazing up at 'Rosita'. "No," he continued, quietly. "It's not yours. It's mine."

'Marion' looked from one to the other, then shook her head. "No, no, no. That's not going to fly, not now, not here. Drop the Time Lord mystery and explain." She glared at Corin, who ducked playfully, but didn't answer, gesturing towards the Doctor.

The Doctor sighed. Speaking up to 'Rosita', but loud enough to carry, he began. "Do you remember that time – a _long_ time ago, while we were traveling, we were talking about silly, illogical superstitions, and you asked me if Time Lords had any?" She nodded. "Well, one that I _didn't_ tell you about is this one: we will not sing a song – particularly a sad or tragic one – unless every word is already true for us, for fear that singing it will somehow make it _come_ true. This is one of those songs.

"Tis'hania was the bondmate of Datherion. They'd been together for.. centuries, as close as any two people have ever been, when he disappeared while traveling. The Council waited the traditional eleven years, then declared him dead, and held a state memorial – he was rather an important person at the time. She refused to have anything to do with the preparations, but she did attend. But when it came time for her to sing her farewell, she sang this song, instead. It was her way of _not_ saying goodbye, of saying that she would wait for him forever, that there would never be another. And there never was.

"It works much better in Gallifreyan than English, of course, but..." He took a breath, and began to sing up to her, a sad, haunting melody.

_And I love you  
and will forever  
though we are parted till  
the stars fall from the sky.  
Though Gallifrey  
to dust shall crumble  
before I feel you safe  
again in my arms.  
Though Time shall fail  
falter and die  
your name will  
echo through my soul  
beyond all end.  
And I love you  
and will forever  
and ever more._

He raised his hand again, and she caught it, holding it to her cheek, then leaned over and tenderly kissed her bondmate. Then he got to his feet, pulled her up beside him, and without a word or glance behind they drifted off into the night.

Some time later, Donna was put to sleep in her carseat in the TARDIS, which began playing a soft lullaby, obligingly dimming its lights, and her parents found a private corner of their own.

Which left nobody to notice when Jenny and John did the same.


	13. The Parting Glass

**The Parting Glass**

_Oh of all the money that ever I had  
I spent it in good company  
And of all the harm that ever I've done  
Alas it was to none but me  
And all I've done for want of wit  
To memory now I can't recall  
So fill to me the parting glass  
Good night, and joy be with you all  
– Irish folk song_

The big blue wooden box stood, for the last time, in the front hall of the Tyler mansion, just ten minutes, or a day (depending on whether you were outside it or in), after it had _whooshed_ away. The door opened, and six and a half travelers filed out, checking the clock and grinning.

The Doctor's eyes were shining, suspiciously damp. Before leaving Gallifrey, he had held the others back from the console, and walked by himself up the ramp. He leaned against the console and gently laid his hand on the Time Rotor. He reached out with his mind to the heart of the TARDIS, whispering, "Forgive me." For a long, long minute, he stood there, unanswered. Then, just as he took his hand away and turned towards the back, dejected, she answered him. The Time Rotor began to glow, and the console controls fired up. She forgave him, and let him pilot her back to Earth, the first time in twelve years he was at the controls.

Now back home, Corin turned to Jenny, "You said you had a way back to the other universe?"

She replied, "The same hole we got here through. I timed it up ahead, and we've got a three minute window to go back through. I bookmarked it exactly in the TARDIS time log."

"Well, then. This is goodbye, again, probably forever. Though that word does occasionally seem to lose its meaning around yonder box." He reached to give Jenny a hug, but she put her hand up.

"One thing first," she replied. "I have a confession. I didn't just hop straight from dropoff to pickup on Bora Bora. We went back up to John's time and got something for you. Just a sec." She dived back into the TARDIS for a moment and brought out a familiar box. It was the piece of TARDIS coral, still in its protective shell. "First, I didn't want to leave it around sending out whatever signal that was – who knows what might come crawling through next time. And second... I've fixed it. You were missing the gallinium it needed for its internal structure, like a vitamin. I fed it a bit we had in the TARDIS. And here," she went on, taking a second box from John, "is a bit more gallinium, with some other odds and ends you might need. And finally," pulling out a set of data sticks from the box, "I had the TARDIS write out everything she knew about her own controls. It's the best she could do for a maintenance and repair manual, since there doesn't seem to be one lying around."

Corin was speechless. He put the boxes down on the stairs and hugged Jenny tight, closing his eyes against the prickling tears. "Thank you," he finally managed to choke out.

Jenny hugged him back, cautioning him to shield the bit of coral in his hands against the younger now buried out under the summer house to avoid any new paradoxes, then turned to Rose and quickly hugged her, kissed Donna, and ducked away into the TARDIS before her threatened tears could start.

John stepped into her wake, shaking Corin's hand and kissing Rose on both cheeks, continental style. "Sir. My Lady. It was truly an honor, one I'll never forget." He made to step back, but Rose suddenly clutched his sleeve.

"I know I'm not supposed to ask," she began, then both Corin and the Doctor cut her off.

"No, you're NOT!" they said in unison. "Don't give her any spoilers, John," continued the Doctor.

John smiled at her, regretfully, and began to step back again, then suddenly leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "It's a _very_ long journal!" He winked and ducked out of the way of the Doctor's pretended swipe. She smiled back at him, content with the hint.

The Doctor's Rose took opportunity of the distraction to slip to Corin's side. When he turned to her, she put her hand on his arm, tentatively. "Can you forgive me, for lying to you about how I felt?" She knew that he had worked it all out with her twin, that much was obvious, but still...

He smiled at her. "Did you really think I didn't know? Besides... would you have loved me, if you hadn't loved him first?"

She smiled at him, then, forgiven. She gave him a fierce hug. "I'll never, ever forget one moment. Thank you for five wonderful years. And I hope you have many, many more to come."

She turned then, to her twin. They simply smiled at each other; nothing to say that each didn't already think. The Doctor's Rose ducked her head to kiss Donna goodbye. Suddenly she gasped, realizing she was leaving both precious children forever, without even a chance to see her son one last time. She put a hand to her mouth, holding back tears. The Doctor put a comforting arm around her waist, and she pulled herself together with a deep breath. "Kiss the kids for me? But don't _ever_ tell them why!"

"Are you kidding?" broke in Corin. "They'd be in therapy the rest of their lives! Ouch!" he winced from his wife's elbow.

"I'll kiss them both twice, every time, from now on, I promise!" she told her twin. The Doctor's Rose nodded and turned, dashing into the TARDIS before she lost it.

The Doctor kissed Donna's head, then leaned over to kiss Rose's cheek. As he straightened up, she told him "I do wish you had been able to meet Tyler."

"I did," he replied, nodding towards the TARDIS and his Rose, "in her memories. And he met me – in him," nodding this time towards Corin. He grinned at her. "Rose Tyler. The first woman in history to have her cake and eat it, too!" She laughed back at him, while Corin grinned beside her.

Sobering again, the Doctor looked at both of them. "I confess, I'm still just a little bit unsettled about leaving. What if...?"

Corin nodded at John, still standing by the door. "Check my journal again before you go back through the hole. If we _ever_ need you for anything, I'll write a message on that page. That's why I left it blank!"

John was puzzled. "Wouldn't it already be there?"

"Not necessarily," said the Doctor. "You see..."

Rose cut him off. "Don't try to figure it out, John, you'll just give yourself a headache. Trust me!"

That settled, John turned and slipped into the TARDIS, leaving just the Doctor, Corin, and Corin's Rose.

The Doctor turned to face his twin, his human alter ego, for the final time. With nothing – and everything – left to say, he simply held out his hand.

Corin reached to shake it, then gave a small, ironic smile. "Don't take this the wrong way, Doctor, but I sincerely hope we never see you again!"

The Doctor smiled back, looking at them both. Then he turned, and walked into the TARDIS, softly closing the door behind him.

^..^

Two hundred and eighty-six years into the future, the TARDIS _whooshed_ into the garden of John's mansion again. They had deliberately overshot the arrival window by three weeks – the three weeks that Jenny had stayed with John after the incident, while searching for the solution. He didn't want to live that over again. They would drop him off, about an hour after he and Jenny had left, and return to go through the window.

The door opened, and Jenny and John stepped outside. He looked at her, tenderly. "I don't suppose I could convince you to stay?"

She shook her head. "No more than I could convince you to come." She reached up, and pulled his head down for a kiss. "You're a _good_ man, John Gallifrey. Don't lock your heart up forever. Find someone to share your life with again."

He smiled down at her. "No promises. But I'll look. I'll look."

They broke apart as the door opened again for the Doctor and Rose, who both elected to pretend not to notice.

Rose looked at the mansion and the back terrace. There were many visible differences, but it was still obviously the same place. She smiled, glad to know that her family lived on.

She went up to John and reached up to kiss his cheek. "Thank you. For everything."

He kept his head bent for a moment, as if expecting something else. Then he straightened up and laughed at himself. "I just realized. We just witnessed the genesis of another family tradition."

"What tradition is that?" Rose asked.

He leaned down again and kissed her right cheek, "For now..." and her left, "and forever." He straightened back up again and smiled down at her. "Your love lives on, my lady."

She grinned, the old imp back. "_Lord_ Gallifrey. I do wish I knew how that happened!"

He shook his head, then reached to shake the Doctor's hand, but the other man said, "Did you check the journal?"

John opened the wooden box he held and found the ribbon marker, opening the ancient book to the same old half-blank page.

It was no longer half-blank.

Scrawled across it, in blotchy black letters, was a date, some sixteen years after the Night of the Miracle, and a time, 10 am, and three words, written as though with the blood of a broken heart.

_**FIND MY SON**_

* * *

___To be continued  
in  
Rhapsody and Fugue in Who Major  
_


End file.
